Page 77 of Hush Darling

She blinked and looked back at him with that crystal blue stare. No tears.

“Is there something you wish to say?”

She licked her lips, then rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

His heart stopped as he staggered back. He’d been the one to order her gratitude but now regretted such an order. Forcing her appreciation only embedded lies between them, and he much preferred her raw truth.

“I don’t believe you.” They locked stares, and he challenged her to speak the truth. “If you don’t hate me by now, I’ve clearly been too soft.”

He was a mind fuck son of a bitch, purposely trapping her so she couldn’t win whatever game they played. She either admitted she hated him and faced the consequences or embraced his depravity and opened a door for far worse. Either way, she was at his mercy. Who was the master manipulator now?

Her labored breathing was as wild as her eyes as she licked her lips again. “But, sir, I liked the way you are with me.”

He stilled.

She was lying.

She had to be.

He’d stolen her choice and been more than rough with her despite knowing she was innocent and inexperienced. He was growing tired of her duplicity.

“I order you to speak the truth.”

She panted softly, her body still recovering from his use. “I am.”

Fury erupted inside him, tempting something all too alluring he had no right to imagine. She could not be so proper and hide that much darkness inside her. She was one of them. Nothing like the cheap women at port or the men on his crew. This was a game she played. Nothing more. And she was going to lose.

“Is that the kind of filthy little slut you are? You like being used hard and put away wet?”

“I guess I do, sir.”

What had he awakened in her? If she was telling the truth, this behavior would not stop after he let her go. Who else would touch her like that in the years to come?

Furious at the thought of anyone else laying a hand on her, he delivered a punishing threat. “If you enjoy being used so much, perhaps I’ll call my crew in, let each one of them have a shot?—”

The breath knocked out of him as he doubled over, catching himself on the bed where she had just been. Searing pain slashed at his side. Turning his hand from his torso, he found traces of blood.

“You little bitch.”

She was fast. Faster than he thought possible and far more dangerous than he realized. Glancing down at the gash in his side, he laughed. He deserved that and more for making such a groundless threat. The disgusting thought of letting any man lay a filthy hand on her should have cost him his tongue. And he was proud of her for fighting back. But she was going to pay.

It was far from a lethal wound, but it could have been deadly had she known how to hold a knife properly. And how fucked was he for wanting to teach her?

The knife, which she’d dropped in her escape, clattered to the floor. He kicked it aside. “Not very refined of you, darling.”

Her eyes were wild as she watched him from the other side of the bed. He had the pleasure of seeing the exact moment realization set in and she understood there would be consequence for her actions. A big one.

“I’m sorry.”

A truth or a lie?

He cocked a brow, amused by the riddle she posed but still bleeding all the same. “It’s wise to be afraid.”

She mirrored his steps, backing up every time he strode closer.

“There’s nowhere you can run that I won’t follow now.”

She bolted for the door, but he got there first, slamming it shut before she opened it a crack.